Behind the Mask
by Black Knight 03
Summary: It's Halloween, and Harry is stuck at a Ministry costume gala. Finding himself intrigued by a fellow guest, he wonders who the beautiful woman is behind the mask. One-shot Harry Potter-Fleur Delacour


Disclaimer - J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter

Author's Notes - Slightly AU and EWE. In this story, Fleur doesn't come back in HBP, and in DH, Bill marries someone else. Other than that, everything pretty much plays out like the books, except as usual, I ignore the epilogue. Takes place about four years after DH. Thanks to phil_urich for the beta read.

Usually, Harry hated these Ministry events. While there were numerous reasons he could give anyone, the biggest was that he didn't like all the attention that came his way. This had been one of the events he had skipped in the past, but due to some visiting dignitaries Kingsley made him come along this time. At least tonight it was a bit harder to spot him as he was dressed as Robin Hood for the Ministry's Halloween gala.

_How does that man get me to do these stupid things? He's too good a talker, is what it is._

What made this slightly worse was that for the next few days he was going to have to babysit one of the daughters of the French foreign minister. There were so many nightmares running through his head that he was dreading the assignment. But, once again, Kingsley convinced him to do it.

As the night wore on and Harry was trying to be polite by telling the same stories he had told a hundred times before, he kept catching glimpses of a stunning blonde. She was dressed as a Queen of the old French court; wearing a regal looking, purple gown with a low swooping collar and high slit up the skirt, and a fleur de lies shimmering on her back. He would've loved to know who the woman was, but she wore a masquerade mask, obscuring her face. As introverted as he was, even he wanted to go over and strike up a conversation with her.

But whenever he saw her there was already a crowd of admires around her. So, he settled for simply watching her move about gracefully.

Finally, getting a rare moment of peace alone, he quickly grabbed one of the fancy hors d'oeuvres that were being brought around. As he chewed, trying to figure out just what he was eating, he again looked about for the French Queen.

Just as he finished eating he heard the clicking of high heels as someone approached him from behind. With sharpened reflexes, Harry spun around and found himself face to face with the very woman he had been watching all evening. While her face was hidden by the mask, he could still see her vibrant blue eyes and thin lips covered in red lipstick. Those red lips curled into a smile. "Good evening, Monsieur Potter. I was hopping I would get a moment to talk to you."

As he listened, Harry felt two things above everything else. One was the feeling of recognition at hearing her voice, but he just couldn't place it. Second was a warm, odd sensation washing over him, almost as if he were drunk. Suddenly, realizing what the second was, he quickly regained control of himself as he broke free of it like he would the Imperious Curse. "You're a Veela," he stated a little bit annoyed.

The woman's lips curled even higher. "Yes. How did you know?"

"I could feel your charm just now and that would explain the crowd of admirers tonight."

"I apologize for that, but I wanted to see if you could ignore it," she replied. "It is rare for a Veela to find a man able to see anything past the charm. It is… intriguing."

While not liking it, he could understand the reasoning. "Are you a part of the French Minister's party?"

"Oui," she answered. "I have noticed you watching me this evening as well. I had been hoping you would have come over sooner."

"Well, I like to keep a low profile at these things, and you seemed to have been enjoying your admirers' attentions."

"Ants who do not even realize they are following a trail of honey off a cliff," she interrupted him. "I use my charms, as you say, to keep them from annoying me too much. I am much more interested in the monsieur who sees me as more than just a Veela."

Harry swallowed nervously, feeling like he was playing a game he was over matched in. Women had always been his Achilles heel. He was completely clueless when it came to things like attraction and flirting.

"I was wondering, if you have the weekend. We could better get to know one another." she said suggestively, running her hand along his shoulder.

Now his mind was at war with himself. He caught himself glancing away from the woman's eyes, downward to where her corset framed her breasts beautifully. Snapping his eyes back upwards, he could tell the woman thought it amusing.

"I would love to," Harry replied, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. "Unfortunately, I'm already promised to the Minister's daughter. To show her about London."

For a moment, he watched as she pouted, and then for a brief moment, smirk a little. But before he could figure out why, her face was placid again. "Pity," she told him. "Most men would do anything for just one night with a Veela. The Minister's daughter is a lucky lady."

Distracted for a moment, Harry looked away and by the time he looked back, she had disappeared. _Damn Kingsley, _he thought to himself sarcastically. He hated being the good little boy sometimes.

Towards the end of the gala, he had eventually wandered over to Kinglsey's side, and was being introduced to the French minister and his wife.

"Harry," Kingsley began. "This is Minister and Lady Delacour."

"Delacour?" Harry asked no one in particular.

Minister Delacour smiled at him. "It is an honor to finally meet you, Monsieur Potter. We have all heard such wonderful things."

"And, I would finally like to thank you for protecting both of my daughters," Lady Delacour added.

Harry's mind was reeling. _If the French Foreign Minister is Mr. Delacour, than that means his oldest daughter is-_

"Hello 'Arry." The same voice as the Queen's.

Spinning around, Harry came face to face with the Queen, but this time her mask was removed. Looking like an idiot, Harry's jaw dropped. "You're-"

Fleur gave Harry a teasing smile, knowing what Harry was trying to say. "Father, Minister Shacklebolt, if it is alright, may we be excused for the evening," she asked the two older men as she slipped her arm around Harry's. "We have much catching up to do."

With Kingsley's nodded, Minister Delacour gave his daughter the alright.

"Why didn't you… The mask," Harry rambled for a moment.

Fleur laughed softly. "I wanted to see if you were still the little boy I remembered. In some ways you are, and in some… you're not," she told him with a sincere smile.

"Not that I mind really, but where are we going?"

With a dazzling smile, she looked over at him as they left. "Like I said earlier, we have the weekend, and I would like to better get to know you."

The pair quickly descended the grand staircase to leave the hall. Emerging outside, Fleur slipped in front of him and gave him a small kiss. "'Arry, I am happy to see that you are alright after… everything that as happened. I have thought about you often, but haven't had the chance to come see you until father's trip."

To his dismay, Harry found himself blushing a little. It was one thing for some random fangirl to say that, but something entirely else for Fleur. "Where would you like to go?"

"First, to rid me of this costume, it is quite uncomfortable," Fleur told him, and smiled when he snickered. "But, afterwards, like I said, the weekend… and perhaps more is ours." She leaned in and kissed him again, but this time, Harry wrapped his arms around her slim waist and kissed her back. Then, with a soft pop, Side Apparated them away.


End file.
